


Picking Up Where All the Laws Leave Off

by Telaryn



Category: Leverage
Genre: Character Study, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Dogs, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Gen, Portland Oregon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 01:41:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5987806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Parker could speak dog..."</p><p>Really, what else is there to say?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picking Up Where All the Laws Leave Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [k3nj1ph1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/k3nj1ph1/gifts).



> IJ my darling, the second the opening line popped into my head, I knew this one was going to be for you. I hope you enjoy it!

Parker could speak dog. It wasn’t something she typically shared around – not even with members of the team – because if the dogs she’d befriended over the years knew she was carrying their secrets back to the humans they would stop talking to her at all. Taffy had told her as much when she was six, and for being a sheep dog Taffy was still the smartest creature she’d ever met – humans and Nate included.

By the time the team had left Boston, word had gotten around about the human that could talk to dogs, and at least once every couple of weeks Parker would find a member of the canine community parked on her doorstep with a story of animals in trouble somewhere in the city. For the most part she was able to keep the team out of things – only when something along the order of the dog fighting ring two terriers told her about would she ask the others for help.

Her reputation didn’t follow her to Portland. For the first six weeks they were in the new city, Parker never heard a whiff of anything interesting. If something was bothering the dogs that frequented the streets around the Bridgeport Pub, they were used to working through it themselves.

The afternoon everything changed was unremarkable. Hardison and Eliot had been arguing about the pub’s menu - _again_ \- and she’d gone to visit a few upscale jewelers in town to get away from the noise and calm her nerves some. Sophie was at the theater, immersed in her acting classes, and if Nate understood where Parker was going, the only indication she had was him telling her not to draw attention to herself.

Not draw attention. As if.

It was dusk when she returned. Amy Palavi, a waitress Hardison had recently promoted to manager, was crouched outside the rear door to the kitchen, putting a metal bowl down for a small, shivering creature. “She’s been hanging around all day,” Amy said, looking up as Parker approached. “Eliot and Hardison both said I could give her some of the kitchen scraps.”

Knowing her teammates as well as she did, Parker was fairly certain the pup was enjoying something of a much higher caliber than simple ‘scraps’. Going down on her haunches, she extended a hand for the dog to sniff. “Are you lost, girl?”

The dog – a terrier by the look of her – barked twice. _”Just as stupid as the other one,”_ Parker’s brain translated. _”Can’t tell a male from a female.”_

“What’s so funny?” Amy asked. It was only then Parker realized she was smiling.

“Just realized that our guest isn’t a girl dog.” She gestured vaguely between the dogs hind legs. “And from the look of things isn’t fixed.”

She startled the terrier – he reared back slightly, upper lip pulled back in a snarl. _”Hush,”_ she signed, grateful the word was a non-verbal one in canine. “I’ll stay with him for a bit,” she told Amy. “I like dogs. Eliot’ll tell you.”

The young woman looked at her curiously for a long moment, but part of the reason Hardison had promoted her was that she was able to roll with the team’s quirks, large and small. “Bring the dish in with you when…he’s…finished.”

Parker nodded absently, settling into a cross-legged seat on the pavement. _“You’re rude,”_ she said to the terrier, who was already attacking the food he’d been given. The dog rolled his eyes up until he could see her.

 _”Well I didn’t think you would understand me now, did I?”_ he snapped. _”What are you, anyway?”_

 _What_ , not _who_. This dog was young, for all that his speech patterns suggested a much older animal. Taffy had taught Parker that individual identity was something a dog rarely embraced until they were out of puppyhood. Until then the world was divided into ‘dog’ and ‘not dog’, and even though this one understood that she was human, he likely only had the vaguest idea what that meant.

“I’m a girl-human,” she said. “My family calls me Parker.” She waited for a few minutes, but the terrier was far more interested in his dinner than in any sort of dialogue with her. “What does your family call you?” she asked finally. She’d missed interacting with dogs more than she’d realized.

The dog growled, the low tone that indicated hate. _”I don’t have a family. The big ones make us fight. I finally ran away.”_

 _Dog fighting._ Parker’s stomach tightened. She and Hardison and Eliot had broken up a few dog fighting rings back in Boston, acting on tips from the local stray population. It was ugly business, typically mob backed, which was why Parker had gotten the boys involved in the first place. She was getting better at it, but confrontations were still something she wasn’t good at. “I have friends,” she said tentatively, as the terrier went back to its meal. “We’re really good at stopping big ones from hurting family.”

The terrier sat back on its haunches and looked directly at her. _“Do your friends understand like you do?”_

Parker shook her head. “They also don’t know that I can understand you. It needs to be our secret.”

 _”Then why would they help?”_ The terrier tilted its head in the manner that indicated a question.

“They’re good friends,” Parker said. “If it’s important to me it’s important to them.”

Silence fell between them. Parker stayed as still as she could, understanding that the dog was weighing what she’d said and balancing it with his own experience with ‘big ones’. _”If you can really help, I can show you where they make us fight.”_

Parker made the sign for “deal”, grinning at the jolt of adrenaline that surged through her. She had missed this.  
*****************************  
“Did you bring the dish in?” Eliot called over his shoulder. He was at the sink, washing pots. A quick glance at the clock told Parker they still had an hour before the regular chef started preparing for the evening crowd.

She set the now-empty bowl on the edge of the sink. “He liked it.”

“So,” Hardison said from his perch on the far side of the kitchen, “what doggie disaster are we tackling this evening?”

Startled by the frankness of the question, Parker drew up short. “Were you listening?”

The hacker’s brow furrowed in confusion. “To what?”

Eliot turned away from his dishes. “Every time you meet a new stray we get some new canine related adventure.” He finished drying his hands and tossed the towel aside. “We’ve learned not to question it.”

Parker glanced from one to the other, simultaneously surprised and pleased at their apparent unquestioning acceptance of her crusade. “So?” Hardison asked, closing the distance between them and pulling her into a hug. “What’s the job?”

“Please tell me it’s another dog fighting ring,” Eliot said, coming to stand with them. “I love putting a hurt on those kind of assholes.”

“Looks like you’re going to get your wish,” Parker told him, smiling so broadly her face muscles ached.

She’d never loved her boys more.


End file.
